


Light of Day

by LadyAna5



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Challenge Response, Drama, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, S&M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-03-01
Updated: 2000-03-01
Packaged: 2018-11-11 02:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAna5/pseuds/LadyAna5
Summary: Fraser learns Turnbull is an excellent outlet for his darker side.





	Light of Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Light of Day by L.A.K.

 

 

Summary: Fraser learns Turnbull is an excellent outlet for his darker  
side.  
Notes: Warning! This story contains a truly Evil Benny (but he's so  
much fun that way!)

Copyright to Alliance.   
This is in answer to the BDSM Challenge as put forth by TheCloset.  
Rated:NC-17 for m/m sex  
Pairings: BF/RT(believe it or not!)  
I am forever in debited to my Archive (and elsewhere) uploaders: Anagi, Sylvia and Sally 

###  Light of Day  
by L.A.K. 

* * *

He enters the room, forcing away thoughts that his actions are wrong or inappropriate. Soon, they will not be, he reassures himself, for ultimately he will not be at fault. He *has* been here before. A few times, in fact, but it never ceases to amaze him how much style and depth dwells in this place and within the one who lives here. He never knew. Not until just recently was he aware a kindred spirit was amongst the masses he witnessed around him on a daily basis. Save for a best friend, he was alone. That is, until now. 

The blinds are turned to block out the fading light and the prying eyes of the world. The drapes are drawn as well, creating the effect of nearly total blackness in the room. It doesn't help that the sun is already setting. The room itself is surprisingly highly personalized and expectedly meticulous. There are scented candles and incenses, both filling the room with a sweet scent of jasmine and huge pillows on the floor. A large, luxurious purple velvet throw rug has been placed under the crimson pillows, with several blankets and a comforter thrown in to decrease the hardness of the floor. He knows the bed is not big enough for the two of them, so this must suffice. There is a small coffee table with all the toys and accoutrements needed laid out in the designated order. 

He feels the door being closed behind him, while he removes his Stetson. His present partner is there, waiting. Waiting for his approval, for words of encouragement. The guest has worn the red serge, as requested. It is his partner's favorite. 

"It is lovely." he states, while looking around. "Very nice." 

"I'm glad you like it" is the hushed reply from behind. 

He catches the sight of a canvas in the corner. He makes his way to the portrait slowly. It depicted dead roses, their thorns stripped away, their maroon petals shriveled and crumbling, as are the deceased green leaves. The floral corpses are being consumed by a brilliant, incandescent fire. Not white, but a *silver* fire. 

Luminous...blinding. 

"It's you." his partner states. "You are the flames. I am the roses." 

He does not respond. He can't. It's not time yet. 

"Are you ready?" he asks instead. 

He almost wishes there could be more between them, something deeper than these clandestine meetings. But that would go against all he has been taught to believe throughout his life. His control is an acceptable crutch, his self-denial the only drug he allows. They are a barrier, however, against the wretched spirit that lives side by side with the inherently moral half of his soul. Therefore, for the good of mankind, his evil half is not permitted to see the sun. 

"Yes. Please, sit down." 

He sits on the velvet, legs crossed. The younger man kneels before him, head bowed. 

This is wrong. He cannot do this. 

A second before he speaks, cerulean locks on sapphire. A pendant is suspended between them, held by the blond Constable. A stern look is given, but the dark haired Canadian concedes to him, to his wishes. 

"Relax..." Says Ren, the pendant starting to move back and forth, with Fraser's eyes following it intensely. 

"Your breathing is slowing. Time is coming to a halt. Your consciousness is slipping." 

The man before him became increasing calm as the other Constable spoke in a soothing monotone. His shoulders start to droop, his hands now idle in his lap. 

"You are leaving this plane of existence. You will cease to be a part of this world when I say the word. Your restraint will vanish and your inner soul will surface when I said the word. Do you understand?" 

"Yes." He breathes. 

His eyes are glazed over, the pupils darkened, his is mouth opened slightly. "And when I say the opposing word, you will cease your actions and you will...*obey*. You will awaken now at the sound of my fingers snapping, but you will remember all I have said. Do you understand?" 

"Yes." 

Turnbull catches the swinging charm in his fist and leans back. A giddy excitement settles in the pit of his stomach. He sighs shakily. He gathers his wits and looks directly at the hypnotized Constable. He snaps his fingers once. The older man blinks, twists his head to unknot a kink in his neck, looks at Ren, and sighs. 

"It's getting...faster." Says Ren. 

"The subliminal suggestion doesn't take long to place, Constable. Especially when the party is willing." 

"Of course." He shyly responds. 

They both stand. 

"Is it time." Ben states. 

The smaller man nervously inhales deeply again. 

"Yes, it is...*Master*." 

The taller man sways dramatically...he stumbles, barely catching himself by placing a hand on the wall. He seems to fold inward on himself, apparently growing faint and dizzy. The younger man does not respond. Ben holds his head in his hands and pants deeply. Slowly, eventually, his breathing returns to normal. He stands, straightening his back, twisting his neck again. 

"Finally." Fraser says, sounding relieved. 

Fraser stands, and resumes admiring the portrait. 

"This is me...consuming you?" 

"Yes, it is." 

"It is beautiful." 

"Thank you, sir." 

Ben turns to his partner, a wry smile on his face. It is returned. "Thank you, Constable, for freeing me." Says Fraser. "It gets so bloody dreadful living through him all the time. I'm sure you can understand." 

"Yes, sir, I do." 

The slap came fast, causing the blond to wind up crumpled on the floor. The whole side of his face burned. There was minute laughter from the spectator before him. 

"Now, tell me what you did wrong." 

"I...addressed...you...incorrectly." 

"That is correct." 

He grabbed a handful of golden hair and yanked it back. 

"What is my title?" 

"Master..." 

"Very good." 

He was dumped on the velvet and held down by a boot. The gleam in the blue orbs and half smile sent chills down Ren's spine. 

"Undress." He is informed with a nudge of Ben's foot. 

The boot was removed and the Constable got up, quickly beginning to remove his own uniform. The older Canadian stood back to watch, his arms behind his back, by all appearances on guard duty. His eyes drill into the man removing his clothes, who takes his time, savoring the humiliation. Reluctantly, yet enthralled, Rennie stripped off his own tunic, the braces and boots. He proudly displays the thin, black collar around his neck, complete with lock. Fraser smiles upon seeing it. Off came the shirt, revealing his pale skin and crinkled nipples. He stopped short of pulling off his pants. He stood still, awaiting the wrath he knew was coming. 

The Master smiled fully, then laughed a bit. He came closer. He eyed the thick torso up and down, lightly pinching a nipple, getting a slight gasp in response. He even cupped the back of his neck and applied soft kisses down Rennie's throat, causing the submissive to wince in pleasure. The hand came up and roughly grabbed his hair again, pulling him down as he spoke. "I...didn't...make...a...request, slave. Get on with it!" 

Releasing him, Ren nearly toppled over, but caught himself. He lowered his trousers and underwear stepping out of them both. His cock, now fully exposed, strained to make it's presence known, Ren reveling in the exhibitionism. Ben came closer, into his personal space, causing the other man to flinch. The dominating one raised an eyebrow. He retrieved his inspection gloves and slipped them on while speaking. 

"Do you fear me?" 

"Shouldn't I?" 

Ben stopped short. The perfect lips curled just a bit. A white gloved finger trailed it's way down the side of his face. 

"You...are very wise, child." 

Fraser started at the top, letting his cloth covered fingers glide along the short hair, then down the side of his angular face to his chin. It continued down his neck and out to his shoulder. He kept one hand behind his back, as if he were officially acting out an true inspection. He walked around the trembling form, his eyes raking over the nude being before him. He stops directly in front of him. Rennie knows what he is staring at and his excitement increases fivefold. The finger completes the length down the aching stiffness. 

"Stroke it for me." The soft voice states. 

Ren looks at him questioningly. 

"Yes." The older Constable stated. "I'm giving you permission to touch what is not yours..this time." 

Obeying, Ren leans back his head and encircles his hand around his own prick. His is flying, high on the knowledge this is really happening. It wasn't some fantasy he created while on sentry duty at the Consulate. Fraser, his master, is asking, no, *demanding* for him to jack his dick for his viewing pleasure. The gooey sounds, the smack-and-slick of his juice grew loud in the quiet room. 

"You like that, don't you? You like displaying yourself to me, slave?" 

"Yes, of course, master." Ren breathes, his voice thick his lust. 

A hand is gently laid over his rapidly moving one. 

"Stop." 

The finger continued it's journey, following along his shoulder blade to the center of his back...then down. It lightly rested in the small of his back, his breathing now coming in shorts pants. It caressed the area delicately. "You are beautiful." 

He yelped at the warm breath on his ear. 

"Thank you, Master." 

The hand went lower, drifting over pert ass cheeks, one, then the other. He dared not arch back, to indicate what he wanted. It was his deity's right to tease him. He began a low moan in the back of his throat, it being his only acceptable outlet for the moment. Fraser reached around and brushed the cotton knuckles over the slave's erection. Afraid, Rennie gasped and backed into the Mountie behind him. He was instantly terrified for making physical contact without consent. Wool scratched his back, the tunic of his lover pressing against him, his whole body shivering. 

"It's okay..." Ben cooed. "Lean back." 

He was encouraged to lay his head back on the shoulder of the man who controlled him. His arms were glided over, attention being paid to every digit on each hand. Turnbull's arms became jelly, but he refused to let his knees buckle. Not until permission was given. Both gloved hands came up and fully caressed his throat, making him gasp, mouth wide open. Fraser nuzzled his ear, then licked and kissed down his neck. The hands started to roam, down the chest, to the waiting nipples. They were rolled and pinched, eliciting a groan from the naked Constable. Finally, he got to his groin and tightly gripped the dripping cock. An arm was wrapped around him possessively, as the nimble cloth-encased hand stroked the swollen flesh repeatedly. It tugged and pulled like no bare palm ever had. Sticky sounds filled the room and it gave Ren such an incredible thrill to know what was happening. His balls were tightening and he knew it wouldn't be long. 

"Get on the floor!" 

His face was singed by the rug, his wrist was even more unlucky. It twisted as he fell, the pain shooting up his arm. It wasn't severely damaged and therefore was to be classified as punishment. He was roughly pushed over onto his back with that same boot, his dark demigod still observing from above. Ben now began to get undressed. The pre-cum stained gloves went first. It took him no time to strip himself and stand with both feet on either side of his slave's hips. The uncut cock jumped occasionally, mostly timed with the breathing of the larger Canadian. He straddled his slave, much to Ren's delight, but stayed clear of his partner's rock hard dick. 

He lifts the handcuffs from the table and displays them for the submissive to see. Ren closes his eyes and takes them from him. He snaps the cold metal ring into place on his own wrist and waits. Another pair is produced and his actions are repeated with the other hand. The Master leans completely over his slave, making his dick brush along the chest of his lover, Ren whimpering in response. Fraser awkwardly fastens the cuffs to the legs of the heavy couch behind them, leaving the arms spread wide apart. He leans back, and surveys his prize, their pricks ever-so-slightly rubbing against each other. 

Ben smiles at his lover, but of course, explains nothing. He reaches over and lifts one of the candles. Panic crosses the features of the angular face and he swallows hard. He let his head fall back and wanted to cry. Turnbull never took his eyes off the flame. Master held it while gazing at the fire, the warm light making his skin glow. A finger trailed down his chest, then up to his face. Nails quickly sunk into his chin. 

"Move and you'll regret it!" 

"Yes, master!" he cried. 

Hot, blistering wax fell onto a pale rose nipple. He winced, trembling at the pain lancing through him. 

"Ahhh! Oh...God...oh!" 

The second nipple received a similar treatment and he did his best to remain still, barely being able. His groin tingled and burned with every drop poured. The pre-cum oozed as his dick fought to keep contact with the other penis above him. Fraser leaned down to observe his work. 

"Damn..." he muttered. 

Ren looked down, making an odd whimpering sound. The dominating Constable had narrowly missed his second target! He scraped off the old wax and tried again, the searing liquid adhering this time to the raised, soft flesh. Oh, God...please, I-" 

His nipples screamed in pain, the wrinkled aureoles becoming bright pink, white, hot needles prickling the area. It was scratched it off time and time again, applying more hot torture to his chest, the heat making his head, body and feet throb continuously. 

"Master, please, I can't-" 

The slap made his ears ring. 

"Silence! Did I tell you to speak?!" 

"No but-" 

This time, a hand gently yanked on his scrotum. Ren wanted to double over in agony. Both hands were uncuffed and the Mountie on top rested back on his heels. 

"On your knees." 

Was there ever a more beautiful sound than that melodious voice commanding him with those particular words? His upper torso still stinging, he placed himself in the proper position of servitude. On his knees, head down, eyes closed. His hands were draped loosely over his thighs. Fraser came close, enveloping the young man in a tentative hug. In one hand, he held a pair of handcuffs and a satin strip of cloth, meant as a blindfold. He wrapped his other hand around the waiting stiffness of the submissive and stroked long and slow. 

A drop of erotic fluid is gathered on the thumb of the older Constable. He gently smears it on the cheek of his lover, marking him appropriately. Rennie sucked in air quickly at the favored degradation. Ben again reigned kissed and licks where he could reach, while securing Ren's hands behind his back. He felt up the passive body before him, still stroking the needy cock in his hand. The blindfold came up and crossed over his eyes. Warm Mountie hands covered him, one resuming the duty of jacking him, while the other teased all the erogenous zones it could find... 

The back of the neck, the spine, the sore chest, the tight buttocks... 

"Oh!" Ren said, instinctively jerking from his master's touch. 

"Oh..." Fraser cooed. "That sweet ass of yours is sensitive, isn't it?" 

"Yes...master." 

All sensations stopped as the master back off. Bound and blinded, he waited for his orders. 

"Turn around." Ben whispered. 

Awkwardly, Turnbull began to try to switch positions, so that his back faced his lover. His foot caught in the rug and the world spun in front of him, causing him to fall flat on his face. Fraser chuckled openly. 

"Don't worry, you're even more clumsy when you have all of your senses, child!" he announced. 

Knowing he wasn't going to get any help, he struggled against his bonds, but managed to upright himself. 

"Very good. Now..." 

Greasy fingers dug their way none-too-gently into his ass. 

"Oh, God! Oh...my...dear...Jesus!" 

Rennie's body thrashed at the wonderful invasion. 

"Now, now..." Ben admonished. "Keep jerking around and I'll stop." 

It took all of his strength, but Ren was able to bring his body under control. He stood still, a virtual statue, Canadian finger's still slipping in and out of him rapidly. Fraser leaned in to croon in his ear. 

"My, we are a hot little *bitch* tonight, are we?" 

"Yes! Oh, God, Yes, Master! Please! Please!" 

"Soon, soon enough. Here..." 

The fingers where gone and he had to fight the urge to slump forward. The sound of gentle humming snapped him back to awareness. The large vibrator trailed down his back and nothing, absolutely nothing, could keep the smile off the slave's face. It was turned off, then unhurriedly, with an excruciatingly slowness, was guided up inside him. 

"You want it on?" Ben taunted. "Do you?" 

"God, master, yes! Please, yes! Oh, yes!" 

Ren laughed openly as he begged. His lover could be cruel, but sometimes, just sometimes, was *more* than generous! With the flick of a switch, exquisite reverberations saturated his body. It was worked in and out of him and Ren was allowed to rock back and forth on it, the sensation making him totally mad with an aching need. 

"Are you mine, boy?" 

"Yes, master! Oh...forever yours..." 

"Hold it...hold it inside you...and don't let go." 

It was strange to grasp the plastic sheath and hold it in his own rectum, but he did, loving the way it made his dick jerk with pleasure. The brutal slap of the leather strips across his back caused him to scream out loud. Again, the whip laid into him and he saw stars in the darkness, another yell torn from his throat. Quickly, his back was enflamed, the pale skin being burned with striped welts. The vibrations in his puckered hole connected to the pain in his back and twisted down into his scrotum, which also strained for relief. His cock leaked nonstop and the balls were painfully drawn in pent-up frustration. The instrument of torture was acting as an extension of the welder, both were meshing, becoming one. Ren knew the last thing he could do was rebel, he had to keep the vibrator in place and endure the cat o' nine tails bruising his delicate skin. The whipping grew fierce and his shouts continued. 

"I said 'silence'!" Fraser roared. 

"Oh, God..." Ren gasped. 

Renfield Turnbull was gone. He was back there, somewhere where he left his dignity and control. The tears surfaced and the weeping of joy was made audible. 

He would do anything to please, to serve, to be owned... He sealed his mouth, but could not stop the pleading from the back of his throat and eyes. His face, hence, the blindfold, became soaked with tears. The beating suddenly ceased. 

Fraser slowly walked around him. 

Again. 

And again. 

And again. 

He was being sized up, judged and contemplated. 

Fraser suddenly dropped the whip and fell to his knees directly behind Ren. He ripped the vibrator out, causing another yelp. He tossed it aside. The handcuffs were removed. The blindfold was taken off as well. Ren was breathing in shallow pants, his head whirling with pain, lust and subservience. He was afraid to open his eyes. He remained frozen, on his knees. An uncut dick was pressed to his thin lips and Ren sucked it greedily. He lavished it with attention, sucking down the excessive pre-cum, listening to the grunts of his owner above him. He was like a person who was starving, yet still hadn't forgotten how to appreciate food in all it's beauty. 

"If you're not going suck it, I guess I'll have to ram it down your throat." The hardness was shoved deeply into the hot, slippery haven, at first causing Rennie's gag reflex to retaliate. Soon, though, Ren relaxed and gobbled it down, the luscious cock and balls both receiving a fair share of his exceptional oral talents. A hand on his chest pushed him to the floor, with master landing on top of him. His legs were seized and lifted, being placed over Fraser's shoulders. 

"Look at me, bitch." 

The eyes fluttered open. 

"I'm going to fuck you now and I want you to jack yourself as I do so. However...you *will* come beflore me...or I'll beat you all over again. Understand?" he growled. 

Ren nodded vigorously, scooting closer. Fraser lubed up his own dick, but denied any more to the submissive. He shoved it inside Ren, who's tender ass had hardly recovered. He bucked up in agony, but was slammed back down. Ben began to thrust against him in earnest, treating him with all the consideration of a caged animal devouring a piece of meat. Reality was a blurred concept, with nothing else mattering except the here and now. The blistering dick cut into him, the strong hands holding him down, under their glorious control. 

"Now, jack yourself now." He was commanded. 

All reason gone, he didn't care about anything except coming. He had to have it or he would go insane. His hand curled around his own shaft and ecstasy washed over him. He pumped it like crazy and his blood pulsated with pure delight. Those same strong hands slipped around his throat into a vice grip and he thought he was going to pass out from being so thoroughly possessed. He began to growl himself as the air was restricted from his lungs. The dominating one pounded into him without mercy, the strangulation creating even more heaven within him. The talons grip tightened and Fraser let out a little yell, a telltale sign he was near the edge. The slave relinquished his will and let the darkness crawl in at the edges, the bliss pooling in his groin. Hot cream erupted and he left this world behind... 

He held the still form, the cum still spattered on both of their stomach's. Choking him to unconsciousness riled the demon inside the older Canadian. He snarled and placed his hands on his victims shoulders. "Come on..." he chided, giving the body a good shake. "I said...come *on*!" Another violent shrug and the body jumped awake. Coughing and gagging, he was forced back down and the sadistic man on top plowed into him over and over again. His nails ripped at the skin it held, red spotted lines left in their wake. He panted rapidly, his head back, eyes closed, he came and came and came... 

Once recovered, Fraser kissed the top of his slave's head and held him for a moment. 

"You are a sweet slave who serves me wonderfully." He whispered. Then, he was gone to shower. Ren curled up in a ball and sobbed deeply, more content than he had been in a long time. Once both men where cleaned and dressed, the pendant reappeared for the older Constable and Rennie counted back from ten. 

Then, he said the opposing word. 

"Mercy." 

The Consulate was busy that day with many events occurring at once. Constable Fraser had already started on the stack of files before him, when Turnbull came into his office. 

"Sir?" 

"Yes, Constable?" 

"Here are the records you requested." 

He came in, haphazardly carrying files that looked like they had been dropped at least once. The other man displayed a simple look of restrained irritation. Ren placed the files on his desk and waited to be dismissed. 

"What are you waiting for, Constable?" 

"To...be...dismissed, sir." 

The dark haired man grew thoughtful. 

"Ah, yes. That's what I forgot. You didn't remind me, which is tantamount to disobeying. I will remember that for the next time, Constable." 

His tone was light, with not an air of hostility in it. Still, Turnbull looked as if he were going to faint. 

"Oh, I remember everything every time, Turnbull. But, as you know, it would be improper for us to carry on such a relationship openly, seeing as I am your superior. However, if I am under the influence of another form of persuasion, then it can be considered acceptable, because I am not in complete control." 

The blond man cast his eyes downward, as he was taught to do in the presence of the man before him. His voice was quiet and soft. 

"I know you told me that influence, sir, was what your spirit truly holds. It is what you are honestly like inside. The darkness within, you explained, is barely under control. That is why...what...I am here for." 

"Look at me." 

A steel blue gaze nailed Ren to the wall. 

"And we should continue to keep that darkness, that part of my soul, from seeing the light day...as often as possible. Don't you agree?" 

"Of course, sir." 

"Dismissed, Constable." 

 

END


End file.
